Protect me
by Utsukushiookami
Summary: Sequel to Kill me. Kenny desperately wants to see the mourning brother he left behind. To once again live and find a way to get rid of Damien once and for all. The only thing standing between Kenny and his brother is Damien's refusal to help and insistance it can't be done. That is until another option is brought to light...
1. Beginning from an End

**Or as I like to call it "Shit gets complicated." XD**

**Shitty description, please bear with me. XD**

**Hey guys! I'm back with the sequel! I have a LOT planned for this, and I've decided to try a new format to make it a bit less complicated with the p.o.v changes.**

**3 songs in one chapter! I think that's a new record. XD**

**...So. Much. Planned. ****s_s**

**Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this as much as I'm going to, and hopefully as much as the first one! Thank you for those who are continuing to read, and to those who have newly discovered this!**

**If anyone has any music suggestions that aren't screamo and they think fit the story/mood, please for the love of god, tell me! I'm always searching for new music. **_**Always.**_

**On another note, my birthday was last Thursday. I'm 20 years old now. s_s Then again, I don't feel any older since I've felt 20 for the past year. XD**

**Lyrics in fic:**

**Billionaire boys-**

Super ok

**Sum 41-**

No solution

**The Offspring-**

Gone away

**Music:**

**Bush-**

Little things

The chemicals between us

**Linkin Park-**

Castle of glass

I'll be gone

In my remains

**Muse-**

Time is running out

**Nephew- [Danish rock, yeah! :D]**

Danish way to rock

En wannabe Darth Vader

New year's morning

Police bells and church sirens

Va Fangool

**Offspring-**

Dirty Magic [new version]

Have you ever

Hurting as one

Slim Pickens

The Future is now

**R****öyksopp-**

You don't have a clue [I heard this because of a comic that Preoprix over on tumblr did with Craig and Tweek in regards to Aisle 10, which I still need to read. Seriously, check out the comic if you get a chance. It fits the song so well. XD]

**Vocaloid [I stumbled upon these two songs, I don't know anything about Vocaloid other than that I would happily fuck Kamui Gakupo. XD]**

Secrets

Venomania no Ouyake no Kyouki

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_Kevin_

XXXXXXXXXX

_Woke up this morning falling off the wrong side of the bed_

_I reached for my lighter and I lit my first cigarette_

_Stumbled down the stairs_

_I was looking for my cellular phone_

_To call my baby _

_But my baby well she's never at home_

_She's always bitchin' and I'm better off just being alone_

_But that's okay_

_There comes a time when we all reap what we sow…._

Six months. It had been six agonizing months since Kenny had died, and yet Kevin was still holding on to the useless hope that he would come back like always. That he'd stumble tiredly from his room and demand that his brother make him breakfast because, according to him, dying and coming back meant he woke up famished.

But there was nothing.

A few days after Kenny had died, Kevin moved from his parent's destroyed house, not even bothering to tell them their house was gone. Those fuckers didn't deserve it. He knew they wouldn't care that Kenny was dead, or that he'd moved out. Fuck them. Let them come home from wherever the fuck they were now to find that hey _have_ no home. Kevin looked around his apartment, unwillingly reflecting on the events that had brought him here.

_After he had gathered enough wits to venture outside of Kenny's room, he'd gone to the living room to see the rest of the group gathered there, a pregnant, morose silence hung heavy in the air. They all looked up as Kevin shuffled into the room, their faces mostly masks of pain to a lesser extent of what Kevin felt, but underneath that was almost a wince or a grimace of profound sympathy for a pain they knew theirs could never match. Christophe stood and crossed to him._

"_The bodies are gone. They must 'ave disappeared with zat ass'ole." He supplied in a soft voice. Kevin only had the energy to nod. "Since your 'ouse was destroyed and I failed 'im, you may come live with me and my roomate." _

_Kevin shook his head. "No…" he croaked out, finally lifting his stinging, puffy, red eyes to Christophe's. "I need to be alone. I can't deal with this if I'm living with someone else." Christophe nodded in understanding._

"_Then…please allow us to 'elp you find a place. It doesn't make up for anything, but eet's the least I can do." Kevin was about to reject his offer, but a flicker of movement caught his eye. He turned his head to Cartman, sitting on the arm of the crushed couch, arms crossed, face as impassive as always. He shook his head once, a very miniscule and almost undetectable movement, but an evocative one nonetheless. Even Cartman understood the gravity of Christophe offering help out of pure sympathy, instead of money. Kevin thought for a moment, then nodded._

"_Thank you."_

_In the following months, Kevin allowed Christophe to find him a suitable apartment, they had a burial and funeral progression for Anette, at which Jacky was shockingly reserved and stared expressionlessly at the place they had buried her. Christophe wore a similar expression, though his hands shook as he covered her body over with earth. Since there was no body to bury in Kenny's case, a sort of vigil was held. A surprising amount of people showed up to express their condolences, and Kevin had barely held it together throughout the whole thing. Not long after the vigil, Kevin's girlfriend decided that she didn't want to stick around to "fix her broken boyfriend" and had left him._

Kevin had never felt more alone than he did now.

XXXXXXXXXX

_Kenny_

XXXXXXXXXX

_Maybe nothing else will never be so clear_

_Maybe that's only my fear_

_If just for one day, I wish I could disappear_

_Just take me far from here_

_Maybe I'd find out nothing new_

_Maybe I'd end up just like you_

_There's no solution_

_Give me truth to my conviction…._

"DAMIEN!" Kenny burst through the hellspawn's bedroom door, not caring to knock or express any other courtesy. The boy in question was lounging on his bed, playing an undoubtedly violent video game. He looked over at Kenny as he continued playing, and raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"I need to see my brother!" He demanded angrily, stalking to the side of Damien's bed and crossing his arms. "It's been six months. Send me back."

Damien snorted derisively and returned his attention fully to his game. "You know I can't do that Kenny."

"Bullshit! You just don't want to send your precious fuck toy back." Damien chuckled. That horrible, rusty chuckle that might be sexy if it didn't send chills down Kenny's back.

"That's true. But I really can't. You're dead for good this time." Incensed, Kenny grabbed Damien by the collar of his shirt and wrenched him toward him, then angrily punched him. Damien's head whipped sharply to the side, and when he turned it back slowly, eyes narrowed in disdain, blood was dripping from his nose. Damien wiped the blood away with the back of his hand, continuing to glare at Kenny.

"You're going to regret that." He said lowly. Before Kenny had time to do much more then widen his eyes in realization, Damien caught him around the throat and threw him with such force against the wall that Kenny felt his skull crack. He slid down the wall halfway before Damien was on him, hand weighing on his throat, forcing him back against the brick surface, slowly pushing him up it, triggering excruciating pain against his battered skull. He stopped when Kenny's feet were dangling a few inches from the ground and Kenny was grasping desperately at Damien's fingers, trying to pry them from his throat.

"Gh-fuck! Damien!" Kenny managed to choke out, pained tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

"Apologize." Damien said through gritted teeth, leaning in closer to Kenny's face. Kenny continued desperately trying to draw in breaths. This was too reminiscent of how he'd most recently died, and it renewed his sense of fear impossibly.

"Please-! Damien!" He managed, uncaring that he sounded weak.

"Say it!" Damien growled, pushing harder on Kenny's windpipe. Kenny wheezed painfully.

"Fuck-! I'm sorry-!"

"What else?" Damien growled again, waiting for the thing he knew Kenny despised more than anything. Moreso even, then groveling and pleading for his life, such as it was. Kenny's lip curled up a little through the pain, expressing his disgust.

"I- love you-" He choked out quietly. Damien smirked satisfactorily and released Kenny, letting him fall limply to the ground where he choked and coughed, hand on his abused throat. Damien walked back to his bed, picking up his controller and resuming his game, obviously brushing Kenny off. Kenny was irate, but he really didn't want to be choked again so soon, or worse, so he shakily got up and stumbled his way out, slamming Damien's door as hard as he could.

Hell….was an interesting place. Contrary to popular belief, hell wasn't all "fire and brimstone." Oh sure, it was horrible, but not in the same visual representation that seemed to be unanimously agreed upon in most religious views. It was almost like being on earth, only unbearably hot. The only difference was that there were no homes, only apartments that were a stark white against the red heat engulfing the entirety of the place. There was stuff to do; video games, t.v, the occasional fair, drinking, bars….pretty much anything you did on earth, you could do in hell. In fact, all the fun stuff was in hell. All the vices, all the things that were considered bad pretty much _resided_ in hell. Then what was so bad about it? Part of it was the people.

Whatever they did in life to get them there, most people did in death. Many even picked up new things to try. Sex and murder literally plagued the streets. You couldn't go anywhere without having to step over or around someone being raped or stabbed or shot. The most gruesome, unthinkable acts had long since become commonplace to Kenny. He'd even been caught up in a few himself before he learned how to fight them off. Being involved with Damien definitely didn't hurt his chances, either. It was strange how these people without morals, some growing up not knowing the difference between right and wrong, deeply feared Damien and his father. Plus the multitude of illegitimate children Satan had that Damien refused to claim as his siblings, claiming he was the only "pure" one, meaning the only true heir.

All this was horrible in itself, but easily adjusted to. No, the thing that made hell _truly_ a literal nightmare was the fact that whatever insecurities you had in the living world, whatever personality and mental disorders and phobias plagued you, [satan was particularly fond of people harboring schizophrenia, agoraphobia, dissociative identity disorder, and chronic depression or extreme anxiety] would be ever present in your home, the people you interacted with. You would frequently find yourself thinking or being reminded of what beleaguered you the most, and you would be trapped inside your own head, unable to escape, with those horrible thoughts and memories swimming around inside. Your assigned apartment generally reflected that, in the décor, in the shows on the tv, in the video games provided to you. And worst of all, the things you missed the most were permanently displayed somewhere in your "home" to remind you day after day what you've tragically left behind, and in most cases, committed a crime against. If you were alive, you'd have committed suicide a long time ago under these relentless circumstances, but as it was, suicide was impossible. Even those who were "murdered" only came back seconds later, usually to be killed again. It was a horrible and vicious cycle that no one could escape. Unless of course, you got killed personally by Satan.

The last thing that made this place absolutely horrible was that a sort of monarchial hierarchy had been established there, humans being at the bottom of the food chain, naturally. Low grade demons were next, then slightly higher [the kind that could influence behavior or thought in others] then the ones that had free will of their own but served under one of the princes of hell, and then there were the princes themselves directly under Damien, Satan and his other children. The ones that served under the princes were the worst in Kenny's opinion. Even worse than Damien and his "siblings." These demons, affectionately dubbed the Tortoribus were basically like teenagers without parents. They did what they want, _when_ they wanted and to whomever they fancied. They would torture you until you tried to commit suicide, then wait for you to come back and rape you, they would transform into loved ones and force you to perform unspeakable acts on them, or perhaps worse, commit unspeakable acts on _you_.

They were generally _influenced_ by the princes, though not disciplined. The well known princes were the only part of Hell's history that Kenny was interested in. The other six "princes" were Satan's siblings. All of the seven "princes" had brutally vied for the throne, and Satan had won out. As punishment to the others, he demoted them ,as it were, to being his assistants and advisors to the throne, and stripped them of most of their powers. They were now forced to serve Satan and Damien in any way they pleased, and they hated the two with a passion. Kenny had heard through the grapevine that for years, the other six had been plotting to overthrow the throne, but hadn't found a way to do it yet without being killed.

Being killed by Satan or Damien in hell was a fate worse than being sent to hell itself. You were doomed to wonder in a dark, lifeless parallel, hunted and tortured by the things you feared most. Even if you thought you feared nothing, you can be sure your fears would be found and exploited there. You could never escape it, never outrun it. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide, no help to be found. Your wraithlike body would constantly go through every form of horrifying death imaginable. You would die again and again, yet still be conscious. Everything would be felt, experienced.

Kenny shivered a bit at the thought as he stepped around a man robbing and brutally hacking a woman to pieces, heading toward the river Styx, which was his usual hang out place when he wasn't back at his place. The river came into view, as did a familiar and surprisingly welcomed face.

"Hey, Kael." Kenny said, approaching the white haired figure sitting on the riverbank. The other boy's head perked up as he heard Kenny's voice.

"Kenny?" He asked, face turned slightly to the left of where Kenny was. Kenny smiled and sat next to him, Kale's head turning where he heard dry grass crunch beneath him.

"Wha' are ya doin' here? Ah though' ye'd be with Demien." Kael asked, face turned to where he was now sure Kenny was. Kenny didn't know why, but he loved Kael's Scottish accent. Maybe it was just the fact that he _had_ a cool accent.

"I was. It didn't go well." He replied, facing forward, voice still a little hoarse. Kael's face scrunched up in concern.

"Wha' happened? Ye soond harse. Did he attack ye agin?" Kenny let a smile creep into his voice to try and placate Kael. Kael's visible brow furrowed and he felt for Kenny's face, forcing him to look at him. Kenny kept still as he took in the familiar messy white hair that thinned as it reached the nape of his neck, the tips of it and the partly sideswept bangs still tinged blonde, his original color. A few strands of his bangs fell over the bloodied gauze that had been placed over his mangled eyes at his funeral. Some had been placed on his ravaged neck as well, but Kael had long since disposed of that, leaving the thin scars on his neck visible. The only reason he hadn't taken the gauze from his eyes was because Damien had forbidden it. He was ironically disgusted by the gruesome sight that lay underneath. Kael had died before Kenny, so Kenny had no idea what Kael's eyes looked like beneath the gauze, though in the many stories he used to tell Kenny when he was still a scared little boy on one of his many visits to hell, he'd told Kenny that they'd once been a clear, spring green.

As with most people, [the ones who'd gotten funerals, anyway] Kael had opted to remain in the clothes he'd died in, rather than the dressed up, churchy shit they put him in for his funeral. Even though it unbelievably hot, Kael still wore his hoodie, the body of which was white, while the ripped and barely there sleeves and hood were light blue. He wore it open, revealing his light gray, beat to shit FOREIGNER shirt that had a rip in the center of the chest that Kenny suspected corresponded directly with the scars on his neck, though Kael had never told him as much. His jeans were faded, stained and torn, as were his white high top converse.

"…..Did he strangle ya agin?" Came the knowing question. Kenny sighed, pulling his knees up and dangling is arms over them at the elbows.

"Yeah. Fucker still won't let me see my brother." Kenny supplied bitterly. If he wouldn't send him back, Kenny at least wished Damien would send him back as a shade or something so he could at least communicate with and reassure his brother. Kael growled a bit in empathetic frustration, then turned his face away.

"Ah'm sorreh, Kenny." Kenny murmured a "thanks" before turning his own face forward. A comfortable silence passed between them as each became lost in their own thoughts, the only thing intruding on it being the ever present screams of the lost souls trapped around them.

"Well, if it isn't Kenny and his little mentor. Tell me, have you two fucked yet?" A familiar deep, rusty voice said behind them.

"Fuck." Kenny muttered under his breath as Kael visibly stiffened. Kenny felt an arm go around him, and with it came the familiar chills down his spine and the all encompassing fear sparked by a power that was inhuman and was tightly bound, like a coiled spring. He squelched the fear with a practiced ease that came only with years of having to suffer with this asshole. "What do you want, Lucifer?"

"What? I can't come talk to my nephew's favorite playmate and his keeper without having an ulterior motive?" Kenny inwardly recoiled. Lucifer's voice had the lilting quality of barbed wire grating on a sidewalk and was as strangely sexy as it was cringe-worthy. Being the youngest of the six "outcasted" brothers, Lucifer appeared physically to be 23, not much older than Kenny and Kael. The eyes that he had focused sinisterly on Kenny were a blood red with flecks of silver that slowly rotated counterclockwise, exactly between his pupil and iris. They were disconcerting, and yet strange in their beauty.

He was tall, at about 6' 3", 6' 4", taller than both Kenny and Kael. His bangs, black but for a chunk in the middle and on either side framing his face that housed a fire theme of red that faded to orange and finally yellow at the end tips, were sideswept, disappearing into the feathered spikes that were effortlessly styled throughout and had the same fire motif spread sporadically within the tresses. The back feathered out in large chunks before it thinned, ending in razored pieces that grazed his collarbone.

His very subtly pointed ears had a multitude of small loops in the cartilage, and in his right ear was black guage with a silver half ring on it. Attatched to that was a thin chain that ran under his ear and reconnected at the slightly smaller but identical back piece of the guage. He had two rings lining the outer ridges of his bottom lip, and another small one on the outside of his right nostril.

He seemed to be wearing his favorite clothes; a high collared jacket with an asymmetrical zipper than started at his throat to the left and went down at a vertical slant, ending at his waistline on the right side, leaving the ends of the fabric to fall open from the end of the zipper, allowing a slit a few inches long and wide enough to show a good portion of the silver embellished pocket of his dark, almost black, tight jeans that were unceremoniously tucked into his black combat boots that were untied, but tight enough at the bottom to keep them on.

The jacket cut off at the shoulder, almost like a wide-set tank, and revealed a portion of a red and black striped shirt that must have been attached to the inside of the jacket, for it disappeared into the other half of the cutoff black sleeve of the jacket that had been sewn onto the red one and fell like a oversized sleeve of a t-shirt. The front of the closed jacket also had three long, detachable chains connected just under the collarbone, at the chest, and at the ribcage that hung across the front, to be linked at the other side. On his arms were black mesh fingerless gloves that reached almost to his elbows and were adorned with more short chains.

"Not without trying to fuck me or torture me." Kenny replied dryly. Lucifer chuckled almost mockingly.

"What can I say?" He placed a cold finger under Kenny's chin, forcing him to look at him as he grinned in a way that sent cold chills down Kenny's spine, eyes narrowed almost lasciviously. "You're so fuckable."

Kenny smacked his hand away and leveled an irritated glare at him, to which Lucifer only laughed. "What the fuck do you _want_, Lucifer?"

"Don't get so testy, boy. I _am_ a prince." Although his tone remained teasing, it held a warning. Kenny just rolled his eyes, waiting for Lucifer to tell him why he was there or get the fuck away from them. The grin that had waned return full force, bringing to mind a child about to tell what he viewed as a huge secret.

"You know, I got a way you can see your brother. But you gotta do somethin' for me first." Kenny's eyes narrowed at him and Kael looked a bit worried. Surely this was a trick. He'd already pleaded with Damien numerous times to let him see his brother, and he'd told him there was no way. Besides, why would Lucifer help him?

"Bullshit." Kenny stated. Lucifer only grinned wider and shrugged his shoulders passively.

"Fine, don't believe me." He made an oval in the air with his finger in front of Kenny. It blazed with fire for a second before the fire gave way to a mirrored portal. Kenny's eyes widened as the image of his brother came into view, eating breakfast despondently at a small table in a room he didn't recognize. Kevin looked like shit with his dirty, tousled hair, crumpled clothes that clearly hadn't been washed in at least a week, and a few weeks worth of beard growth plaguing his jaw. He also looked like he'd lost a substantial amount of weight, which wasn't good considering he didn't have a whole lot of meat on him to begin with. "Let your poor brother suffer and mourn." He offered in what would have been a sympathetic coo if not for the heavy underlying glee and condescension.

Kenny almost reached out to touch the mirror portal, desperate to see his brother again, or at least consol him. To tell him that while he might not be okay, that he was trapped in his own hell, that he was still there. He wanted to go back so desperately But he also wasn't stupid.

"You're lying." Lucifer's grin widened impossibly.

"I'm not. Just ask your little mentor. He knows." There was a sly undertone to his voice that Kenny wasn't sure he liked. But he turned to Kael, who was already shaking his head.

"Kael-"

"No, no, no, no!" Kael cut him off. "I will na' doo et!" Kenny pierced him with an indignant glare that he was sure Kael could sense.

"You knew there was a way to see him and you didn't tell me!" The hurt in Kenny's voice was palpable, even as he tried to squelch it.

"Kenny, please, wha' he's talkin' aboot...it isn't enathin' you evar want to do. It's unemagenable." The pleading tone made Kenny pause for a moment. In all the years he'd known Kael, he'd _never_ heard him plead.

But it wasn't enough to stop him. He had to see his brother.

"...What do you want for it?" Lucifer's grin turned shit-eating as he snapped his fingers and the portal closed, flames rising from the bottom and fizzling out at the top. He then rose from his crouch and stood, Kenny following suit.

Kenny didn't miss the despairing look on Kael's face, but right now he didn't really care. He felt more than a little betrayed that someone who had mentored him and consoled him since his first unwilling trips here as a child, someone who he considered a very close friend, had withheld from him something he knew Kenny wanted desperately and would do anything to obtain.

"Kenny, please...doon't..." Lucifer led the way from the river and Kenny followed, ignoring Kael's plea's.

XXXXXXXXXX

_Kevin_

XXXXXXXXXX

Kevin sat at his kitchen table, attempting to eat a breakfast that didn't appeal to him in the least. He didn't want to eat. He didn't want to continue living his pointless live. He didn't want people to come talk to him, to express their condolences. He just wanted to be left the fuck alone. But more then that, he wanted his brother back. He heard a knock on the door and sighed.

Luck was not on his side today.

He grudgingly went to open the door, wanting to just scream at them to fuck off and leave him alone. When he opened it, Cartman was standing at the door, arms crossed as if he didn't want to be there as much as Kevin didn't _want_ him there.

"You look like shit." He announced as soon as Kevin had the door open.

"...You come here just to tell me that?" Kevin replied, just managing to keep the irritated edge in his voice to a minimum.

"You know what I came here for. Change your shit and let's go." Cartman indicated Kevin's dirty clothes, his entire being stating that he'd rather be anywhere but there.

"...I don't want to go." Kevin replied tiredly. Cartman snorted.

"You never want to go. And you know they don't give a shit. Change your shit before I pick your skinny ass up and drag you." Kevin glared at him before shutting the door, grumbling as he made his way to his room to change. About two weeks after Kenny had died and Kevin had virtually stopped eating, Christophe had stopped by with Gregory to see how the apartment was holding up, and had found him in such a state that he'd immediately demanded Kevin eat. When he'd refused, Christophe literally dragged him to Gregory's car, took him to a restaurant and forced him to eat. Since then, he'd enlisted Kenny's friends to help them force Kevin out of the apartment twice a week. The only reason he could fathom why Christophe cared so much was because he felt uncharacteristically guilty that a customer had died, especially by the hand of someone he wanted dead himself and could wholly understand Kenny's hatred and fear of.

After he dressed, not bothering to comb his hair or do any sort of primping, he grabbed his keys and opened the door to join the now annoyed Cartman, his tightly clenched jaw the only indication of it. The taller boy silently led him down the hall of the apartments and to the staircase leading outside. Kevin mildly wondered how he could see so well with the dark sunglasses he'd donned while Kevin had been changing. He really didn't care that much though. The one thing he _was _grateful for, however, was the fact that Cartman didn't generally talk much to him. He wasn't in the mood for talking, and he was too irritated to want to participate in any small talk.

They walked down the stairs and headed toward Cartman's truck. Apparently, they were meeting the other two there. Fantastic. They both grudgingly got in and Cartman started the car. As if someone was playing a cruel joke on him, Gone Away from the Offspring immediately blared from the radio.

_Maybe in another life_

_I could find you there_

_Pulled away before your time_

_I can't deal it's_

_So unfair_

_And it feels_

_And it feels like_

_Heaven's so far away_

_And it feels_

_And it feels like_

_The world has grown cold_

_Now that you've gone away_

His emotions welling up inside him when he thought he'd become numb, Kevin had to fight to keep the tears back as this song described exactly his feelings about what had happened to his brother. Cartman peeled out, obviously oblivious as he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel in time to he base.

_Leaving flowers on your grave_

_Show that I still care_

_But black roses and Hail Mary's_

_Can't bring back what's taken from me_

_I reach to the sky_

_And call out your name_

_And if I could trade I would_

_And it feels _

_And it feels like_

_Heaven's so far away _

_And it stings_

_Yeah it stings now_

_The world is so cold_

_Now that you've gone away..._

"Can you turn this shit off, please!" Kevin shouted through clenched teeth, eyes closed as he fought to keep the tears back. Cartman looked over, and in a surprisingly non-asshole move, turned the radio off. Kevin drew in deep, ragged breaths as he tried to calm himself. Apart from that, the rest of the ride was silent until Cartman pulled up to the restaurant they were meeting Christophe at. Unfortunately for Kevin, it was a moderately priced Italian restaurant, which meant it was bustling with people. Kevin would have much preferred one of the fancier restaurants Christophe sometimes took him to, because he was usually considerate and reserved a private room. There would be no private rooms here.

Christophe and Gregory weren't there yet, so they allowed the waiter to seat them and give them menus while they waited, Cartman grunting in impatient dissatisfaction that the other two hadn't arrived yet. They'd been there but five minutes when a waiter came up to them and introduced himself. Kevin didn't care to remember his name. What was the point?

"Do you know what you want yet?" The waiter asked in a well practiced cheery tone.

_Yeah. I want my brother back._


	2. Sister

**Hey guys, sorry it's taken me so long to get this out. I've had a very emotional and trying past couple of months. It basically started a couple weeks after my 20th birthday, and let's just say that now I've had to reevaluate everything I'd known to be true up until this point. Having to reevaluate your entire belief system is very...taxing and depressing. Even my enjoyment of writing has come into question.**

**Well, hopefully I'll have my answers soon. I don't plan to quit writing, but at this point, I don't know what I'll discover about myself in the future. **

**Lol, I doubt anyone's still reading this anyway.**

**It's sad when something you love almost seems like a chore. Also, excuse the quality. I know it's getting crappy. The scary stuff will start soon, I promise.**

**Music:**

**Andrew WK**

Ready to die

**Crystal Castles**

Baptism

Suffocation

**The Hives**

Love in Plaster

Won't be long

**Imagine Dragons**

Bleeding out

Radioactive

Tiptoe

**Nu'est**

Action

Face

**Poe**

Amazed

**TAT-Bloodstain**

Sympathetic lies

**U-Kiss**

Believe

Tick Tack

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_Of course. _Kenny should have _known_ it would be something like this. How could it be anything but? Lucifer was power hungry and loved humiliating Kenny in any way he could.

Kenny couldn't keep the self-loathing thoughts out of his head as his face rubbed against the surface beneath him, held there by the hand harshly gripping the back of his head. His body jerked rhythmically, but he managed not to feel the intrusion. He was well practiced at numbing himself and forgetting the harsh realities. All but his with Damien...

He felt Lucifer shudder above him and he curled his lip in disgust, secure in the knowledge that Lucifer couldn't see it. He pulled out of Kenny, eliciting a disgusted wince from the blonde before he rolled over next to him. Kenny refused to look at him. He didn't want to see the smug satisfaction he knew would be painted there with the knowledge that he had made Kenny hate himself all over again.

As adept as Kenny had become in numbing himself to the intrusions, the knowledge didn't placate him. He still loathed himself. Still felt used and abused. He hated himself for allowing these things to happen to him. For being too terrified to try anything. He chided himself for even thinking he _could_ do something. There wasn't anything he could do. The most he could hope for was a chance to escape back into the living world when Lucifer offered him his way back.

"Let me see your face, Kenny." Lucifer demanded in a sated tone. Kenny grudgingly complied, turning so that Lucifer could see his deadened, carefully schooled face. The sight made Lucifer grin because he knew the truth behind the mask. Disgusted and feeling filthy, Kenny got up to put his clothes back on. He knew Lucifer was languidly staring at his backside as he pulled his boxers on.

Once he'd dressed, he turned to Lucifer. "Now it's time for your part of the deal."

"Hell, let me _have_ a few minutes, will ya? Ungrateful little shit." Kenny stared, trying not to betray his shock, repugnance, or indignation at the statement that he should be used to by now.

"Whatever." Kenny said simply, getting up and heading to the door. He exited the room and shut the door behind him, heavily leaning against it as softly as he could, trying not to make a noise to alert Lucifer as to what he was doing, though he had a feeling the fuck already knew. As the sudden and familiar whirl of emotions hit and overwhelmed him, Kenny leaned forward, left hand flat against the door, along with his lower back and ass. His right hand flew painfully to his forehead, his fingers curled against it and the palm of is hand resting just below his cheek bone, covering his eye.

He took long, shuddering breaths, willing the tears not to come. He didn't understand why they were pricking at the corners of his eyes, anyway. He was used and abused on a daily basis and had been for years. He was an empty shell, devoid of emotion. Or at least he liked to tell himself that. The truth of the matter was that it affected him more to be treated like this by Lucifer because as awful and sick as it was, Kenny could cope with Damien's treatment by convincing himself that he cared, maybe a little. That he just didn't know how to show love but by abuse and insults. He knew it wasn't true, but it was better than this. Than this person who made it obvious he didn't care. Who offered no words of reassurance, laced with mockery or not. Who demanded pleasure; physical, and in the suffering of others. This person who could be all jokes and promises of the unreachable one moment, and vicious, unrelenting and cruel the next.

At least Damien's personality was [for the most part] constant. He was predictable in his anger. Lucifer wasn't. Lucifer could [and often did] change his mood during sex, deciding that Kenny wasn't being vocal enough. Bold enough. Recipient enough. Submissive enough. Aggressive enough. And he would become violent and unyielding.

The one thing he had over Damien was he was better at keeping promises.

"Kh!" Was the single sound that slipped between Kenny's tightly clenched teeth as he tried desperately to keep the angry tears back, his fingers digging harshly into his forehead, no doubt leaving definitive indents. He was so angry with himself. Repulsed. And even moreso when he realized he had no one to go to for post-sex comfort.

Normally at times like this, when his emotions were so overwhelming he wished he could die again, he'd go to Kael. Didn't matter what time it was, Kael would always open is door to Kenny. Would always let him cry without judgement. Would always hold him without a word.

But Kenny couldn't go to Kael. Not this time. Because he knew that Kael was angry with him. And more than that, he was disappointed. That, more than anything, threatened to tear Kenny apart. His mentor and arguably the best friend he'd ever had was _disappointed_ in him.

_Not as disappointed as I am..._ Kenny thought bitterly. He opened his eyes, one staring at the cold, uninviting stone floor outside Lucifer's bedroom, the other staring at the wistful darkness of his own hand. In an instant and with a sigh, he decided to do something unthinkable.

XXXXXXXXXX

Damien growled at the loud, rhythmic knocks that had pulled him from his sleep. He threw the covers off and padded to the door, uncaring that he was naked. Whoever was on the other side would only see his body for a second anyway before they were permanently obliterated. He wrenched the door open.

"What the fuck do you want?" He growled, his voice promising all forms of terrible, painful torture to the recipient of his ire. He blinked when he saw Kenny, surprise passing through his eyes for only a second before they were narrowed with suspicion. Kenny _never_ sought Damien out on his own.

"I'm sleeping here." Kenny announced before pushing his way into Damien's room. Damien watched Kenny cross the room to his bed and lay down on top of the covers on his side, facing away from Damien, all of his closes remaining, hand back up to his forehead in the familiar pose. Damien shut the door and crossed to the bed as well, growing more confused and agitated with each step.

"You don't like sleeping here." He grunted as he stood on the side of the bed that he claimed whenever he had "company" over.

"I know." Came Kenny's short reply. Damien crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn't in the mood for guessing games when he'd been so rudely jerked from sleep.

"Then why. are. you. here?" He asked deliberately, allowing his annoyance to be heard.

"Is it so bad that I wanted to be with another person tonight?!" Kenny snapped, turning his head only slightly over his shoulder. Not enough to see Damien, but enough to let him know he was becoming irritated with his questions as well. Why couldn't he just leave him alone? Then again, he should have known better by coming here. Damien was about to become angry when he stopped and a sudden grin stole over his face.

"Oh, that's right. You're having a lover's spat with your little friend, aren't you?" Kenny growled at the mocking accusation in his voice as well as the condescension.

"Fuck off, Damien." Kenny said, not even turning to face him. Damien didn't need to see the pain on his face.

Damien wasn't even incensed by the insult. He grinned, climbing back into bed. Kenny was showing his humanity and Damien loved it. He loved building it, playing with it, setting it alight with hope, and inevitably destroying it. Right now, he'd build it.

He curled up behind Kenny, the blankets pooled around his waist, knowing Kenny would be uncomfortable with Damien being just shirtless, but would pull away and sleep on the floor if Damien's bottom half was uncovered as well. This was the perfect compromise. Discomfort, but little enough to keep him in the bed where Damien needed him.

He wrapped an arm around Kenny's waist, pulling him to him so that Kenny could feel Damien's warm, bare chest through his thin t-shirt. Kenny immediately tensed, but relaxed a smidgen when he realized that Damien had covered himself at least partially. But Kenny hated to be spooned like this, and Damien knew it. It made him feel trapped and too intimate at the same time, Damien's arm too strong to dislodge without the result of cracked or broken ribs. Each breath Damien took was felt against Kenny's back, and with every one, Kenny grew more and more uncomfortable. This was too close. Too personal. Too much like something a lover would do, and something Kenny couldn't allow himself to be involved in. Intimacy and involvement required feelings, and Kenny didn't have any to spare, save where his brother was concerned. He kept them locked down inside a thick wall, never to be penetrated.

But this simple damn act was threatening to.

Damien leaned in and ghosted his lips along the back of Kenny's neck, murmuring an arrogant and unbelievable "Sweet dreams, Kenny." Kenny recoiled as much as Damien's arm would let him, shuddering in disgust. He heard a chuckle behind him and suddenly wanted to kick himself for showing even _that _much. He knew better than that. He forced himself back to position and waited until he heard the heavy breaths behind him to finally let the tears flow.

They came silently from his open eyes that stared into the darkness. Even though he despised it, loathed it, was sickened by it, he was taking a small amount of comfort from just having a body by him, instead of _inside_ him. If he replaced Damien's face and body with Kael's, even the loosened arm thrown possessively over his torso could be manipulated into loving. Comforting.

The tears came harder.

XXXXXXXXXX

**Kevin**

"You're not eating." Christophe heralded his arrival with a disappointed tone. Kevin looked up, his hand in his hair, Face pressed against his arm, elbow propped up on the table. He flicked his gaze over to Cartman, who hadn't bothered to wait for the others to show up before haughtily ordering, mumbling something about how those two "assholes" were always late, and he wasn't going to wait for them when he was starving.

Kevin's gaze flicked back to Christophe as he and his companion seated themselves, Christophe across from Kevin and Gregory across from Cartman. Kevin barely bothered to control his irritance at the frenchman's comment. After all, who was he to be lecturing Kevin? Kevin was older. Why should he listen to the little shit's preachy scolding?

"Not hungry." He grunted in response.

"You're never 'ungry." Christophe snorted, writing off Kevin's excuse. He waived the waiter over and proceeded to order for Kevin, ignoring his protests.

"If it's on me, what do you care?" Kevin slammed his fist on the table at Christophe's blasé attitude.

"I said I'm not hungry, goddamnit!" Cartman glared at him, his outburst having dislodged some of the food from his plate. The other two hardly seemed affected.

"You need to eat, Kevin. What point would Kenny's death have if you starved _yourself_ to death?" Gregory said in his ever calm, soothing voice.

Kevin knew he was right, but he still didn't feel like eating. However, he would also feel like an ass wasting Christophe's money. Though he had to try _really_ hard to even care about that.

When the food came, Kevin ate it angrily and despondently, like a sulking child. He heard a "tch" from Christophe.

"You're acting like a child. I understand you are angry and 'urt over your brother, but you're an adult, Kevin, and we're trying to help you. You should be grateful for _zat_ small miracle, because I don't usually 'elp people." Kevin had heard enough.

"Grateful? GRATEFUL?! I should be fucking GRATEFUL that I lost my brother and all I want is to be left alone and you assholes won't even give me that?!" The entire restaurant went silent at Kevin's outburst, but he didn't care. His tablemates all looked at eachother, Cartman's expression asking whether this was enough to let him leave, and Christophe affirming that indeed, it wasn't. Cartman returned to his food, glaring at it as the other two looked at each other.

Kevin could feel a sudden sense of anxiety and tenseness coming from that side of the table. He looked up to find the two having a silent conversation of sorts, the atmosphere surrounding them...strangely changed. Gregory was flicking his gaze between Kevin and Christophe, his head tilted in a manner that indicated Christophe needed to tell Kevin something. Christophe's face was set in stony resolution. Gregory narrowed his eyes and jerked his head curtly toward Kevin.

"What? What the fuck do you want?" Kevin finally asked. Both boys turned their heads to him. There was a long, pregnant silence as they fought with each other, trying to think of what to say. Finally, Gregory spoke up.

"There's...there's a way you can bring your brother back..." Kevin narrowed his eyes in an angry glare.

"Don't fuck with me. I'm not in the mood for bullshit." Gregory again looked to Christophe, willing him once again to tell Kevin what he had to say. Christophe glared, heaving a heavy sigh, then turned to Kevin.

"He's...speaking ze truth. There is...a way..." At the quick and reluctant hope in Kevin's eyes, he quickly added, "But I won't have you do it! I won't have your death on my hands too!"

Even Cartman looked mildly surprised by his outburst, his eyebrow quirking upward questioningly as he looked over at him. Kevin narrowed his eyes.

"What do you mean? What are you talking about?" And odd expression that neither Kevin nor Cartman had ever seen before passed over the Frenchman's face as he lowered his head, hands clasped in front of his face, eyes focused on the table, despondent and glassy. A look of pain and hesitation and...something more that Kevin couldn't place. When he finally responded, he lifted only his haunted eyes to Kevin.

"You would 'ave to trade your soul for him."

XXXXXXXXXX

**Kenny**

Kenny was awoken by a breath on his ear. He shuddered and jolted up, his bleary face a mask of anger, his eyes holding a disbelief he knew should no longer be there after so many years of such treatment. He leveled a murderous glare at Damien which was met by an arrogant grin. Kenny rubbed his ear vigorously, trying to dispel the disgusting lingering warm tingle of Damien's breath. Damien _knew_ how much Kenny hated that. The fucker found some sick pleasure in torturing him that way. Well, _any_ way, really, but none so more than in ways he'd created. The things that had come about _because_ of him.

"What. " Kenny growled, annoyed by that smug, gloating look on the other's face. He noticed that Damien was dressed, which was odd, because Kenny knew that Damien ALWAYS slept naked, and was usually still asleep late into the afternoon.

"I wouldn't take that tone with me, if I were you. Especially not after what I found today." Instead of being angry, as he normally would, Damien just continued looking like a child who'd found his father's porn stash and was old enough to understand the repercussions of telling his mom and the benefits of blackmail. Kenny really couldn't give less of a fuck what Damien found so interesting, however, so he just stared at him dully, waiting for Damien to tell him whatever had him so excited so he could leave or eat or do something that would get him away from _him._

"It's something you'll find _very_ interesting. Or should I say, some_one._" Kenny knew Damien expected him to go check out whatever he found so damned amusing. He just hoped it wasn't another woman who'd died during a c-section. That had been a hard one to handle. He stomach had been splayed open, and the baby was still inside her, dead as well from the umbilical cord being wrapped around its neck.

But he knew he couldn't protest and conceded to grumpily getting up, still fully dressed. Damien got up from the bed as well and grabbed Kenny's hand, lacing his fingers with his. Kenny wanted to jerk his hand away desperately, but knew what the action would get him, and grudgingly left his fingers as they were, even if the very contact made his skin crawl. Damien always insisted on parading him like a damn trophy whenever they were out together. It repulsed Kenny, yet he knew better than to protest.

Damien led him out of his room and out through the dirty, bloody, body filled streets of Hell, expertly stepping on the corpses, paying no mind as Kenny found paths around them, wondering where the fuck Damien was taking him.

An odd sort of open space came into view. It was all barren, wide open area and rocks that formed two crude steps, one tall and the one underneath shorter. The steps lead to a rough bride that stretched out of sight. Standing on top of the bridge were people as far as the bridge stretched, waiting to receive their fates.

Standing on the topmost step, droning from a large and heavy tome was Leviathan, Damien's oldest uncle. Like Lucifer, Leviathan didn't age and didn't look a day over 30. He was the tallest of Damien's uncles, and at 6' 6" proved an intimidating presence. He had short cropped white hair, a strong jaw and slim nose. His eyes were a bright blue, a mix between aquamarine and ocean, with flecks of silver in them. He usually dressed in business attire, a white dress shirt, tie, gray suit jacket and pants, and nice black shoes. It seemed the heat of the place didn't affect him at all.

Leviathan was in charge of "greeting" each newcomer, which consisted largely in reminding them of all the things they'd done to land themselves here, and that they then needed to see Lucifer to be directed to their new "home."

Kenny and Damien arrived at the head of the line as Leviathan had just finished reading the sins of a young girl who looked about 13 or 14. Something about her long, dirty blonde hair and jaded blue eyes struck Kenny as familiar. Even her dirty face and clothing seemed familiar to him.

"Do you recognize her?" Damien asked, barely containing the glee that Kenny felt was misplaced, and which probably meant that he knew the girl and she meant something to him, otherwise Damien wouldn't be so excited. He only got this way when he found something to torture Kenny with. Kenny shook his head.

"I'll give you a hint. She was a little girl who grew up in a poor family and her parents were drunk and stupid and didn't want her anymore, so they gave her up to the state when she was 5. She had two older brothers who were just _devastated _when she left." He said the word with a kind of false sympathy, like he thought it laughable that her siblings cared so much for her. Damien was barely finished with his sentence when it hit Kenny.

Without a word, Kenny set off toward the girl as she timidly walked by Leviathan, on her way to find Lucifer. The world seemed oddly mute and nothing existed outside the tunnel of vision that was focused on her. He reached her and gave her a tight hug without thinking. She tensed in shock, then immediately tried to push him away.

"Who the hell are you?! Get off me!" She yelled, frightened as she desperately pushed.

Tightening his grip, he murmured into her dirty, lank hair, "I'm Kenny. I'm your brother."


End file.
